


wanna drown myself in a bottle of her perfume

by freloux



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Bulimia, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4942417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freloux/pseuds/freloux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>warning: allusions to bulimia</p>
            </blockquote>





	wanna drown myself in a bottle of her perfume

"Serena? Are you there?" Blair calls up. No response, just muffled laughter. Blair follows the sounds until they lead her right to Serena's half-open door. Laughs that give way to giggly shrieks and finally to breathy moans until Blair opens the door to Serena's room and finds her buck-naked riding Nate.

Blair slams the door and doesn't hear - pretends not to hear - Serena's shrieks of protest. "Blair, wait!"

She staggers out to the lobby of Serena's building, shaky in her three-inch heels. Blair finds herself breathing in ragged gasps that almost catch on a sob. She can't get it out of her mind: the way that Serena was laughing, moving against Nate, looking at him like they were sharing a secret, and the way he looked back like he was absolutely worshiping her.

She has to think of something else, anything else. So Blair does what she usually does: she goes shopping. Then she schemes.

As her credit card swipes down and beeps through the reader for what feels like the hundredth time that day, Blair finds herself wondering, not for the first time, what Serena has that she doesn't. What it is that drives boys wild. Blonde, butter-luscious hair, for one. Curves that really should be illegal. Blair shivers in the Barney's air conditioning and convinces herself that's all it is.

After her shopping spree, Blair gets her nails done. The manicurist's hands on her skin are soft and plying. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an image hits Blair and she almost smacks the manicurist out of surprise. An image of Serena's hands on hers, what they would feel like instead of Nate's rough ones. The pastel lavender color on Blair's nails feels like a cliche, like she's revealing something about herself that she can't even answer to.

She gives it more serious thought over the next few days, almost as seriously as she takes avoiding Serena. That is, until Serena forces herself on Blair, like she always does. She appears on the school courtyard, bubbly and surrounded by boys like something out of a fucking romantic comedy. It almost makes Blair sick. "Blair, I'm sorry," Serena says.

Blair knows she's cornered, so she offers a curt "you're forgiven." Then she waves to her eavesdropping subjects and continues eating sushi alone.

Blair ends up breaking up with Nate. She's not jealous enough to be angry. Mostly it just morphs into a dull, throbbing hatred. It was the schoolgirlish possibility, the innocence and purity, of their relationship that Serena ruined. She hates Serena for that, for throwing all of this into sharp relief.

After lunch one day, Blair hurries to the bathroom for her usual post-meal ritual. She stares down into the clear, glassy surface of the water and sees Serena's face instead. Serena, laughing. Serena, kissing her. Serena, touching her. Blair ends up touching herself instead and asks herself, again, what's wrong with me.

She and Serena have resumed their other routines, but things have shifted. Blair holds herself stiffer when they sit next to each other on the Met steps, won't hug as long during their after-party goodbyes. She's afraid that if she lets this go too far, this glass castle will break, too.

That is, until Serena confronts her. "Blair, you've been acting weird."

"Weird how?" Blair asks, playing dumb. She can hide this, Blair reasons. Both of them are drunk, neither of them will remember this in the morning. It's the point in the night where things have hit a cozy lull, when the buzz has gotten good. Blair looks out on the skyline and focuses hard, feeling like if she concentrates, she can transport herself to the rooftop across the street.

"You know. It's not like before," Serena says. Her voice has reached that whine that Blair always hated, the cloying, wheedling tone that is sometimes there in daytime but comes out full-force when Serena is drunk.

"Well, you also fucked my boyfriend, so," Blair snaps.

"Yeah, but," Serena says with a teasing giggle that turns into a hiccup. "I think you also want to fuck me."

Blair freezes. The truth of it, laid out so neatly and simply, practically echoes in the emptiness of Blair's perfect, posh little room. "I-"

"C'mon," Serena protests. She takes the glass of wine out of Blair's grasp and grabs both of Blair's hands in her own. Blair shivers with the visceral force of her touch, practically reels with the memory of how she got her nails done and imagined it would be like this, just like this.

Serena is gentle with Blair. She concentrates on everything Nate always overlooked: the pressure points of Blair's wrists, the angle of Blair's neck. It feels like Blair is seeing herself for the first time. She knows that when she comes, and looks down at Serena, that she's got the same worshipful expression that Nate had all those months ago.

In the morning, Blair wraps herself in a silk robe and has Dorota make her a Mimosa. She drinks it while looking back out at that skyline. This time, with the morning sun glancing over the shiny chrome and steel and glass, everything feels like it glitters with possibility.


End file.
